


Fantasy Mirrors Desire

by LibidineTertius



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, First Season, Gangbang, Greysexual Neal, M/M, Neal Has a Filthy Imagination, Non-Con is All Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Well... Smut and then Fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 12:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibidineTertius/pseuds/LibidineTertius
Summary: "Elizabeth Burke pulled the throw up higher around her neck, exhaling a shuddering breath. “And what then?” she demanded. "Neal tells El a story. Peter takes care of the reality.





	Fantasy Mirrors Desire

Elizabeth Burke pulled the throw up higher around her neck, exhaling a shuddering breath. “And what then?” she demanded. 

Neal wondered if she understood how much of this was made up for her. He understood his place in her life. She had a good life. A successful business. A husband with a good job that adored her. A nice house. A sweet dog. But it wasn’t _gritty_ and _exciting_ the way she imagined his life to be. He was non-threatening, but could bring that _edge_ to her life.

So he shot his cuff and smiled up at her a touch shyly. “I let him take the tweed jacket off me. And then, not two minutes later, he ‘accidentally’ spilled whiskey all over my shirtfront.”

El laughed. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” Neal contradicted, though he was making this up as he went along. “He suggested we soak it.”

Her brows were high. “So you were…”

“Naked from the waist up,” Neal confirmed. “Unless you count the glasses and suspenders.” It was right out of a porn, he was sure, but El’s pupils were dilated. She was enjoying the hell out of this story, and he wasn’t going to stop if she was having a good time. “Of course, this nerdy little professor I was playing wouldn’t have argued with a confident, authoritative guy like that, so off comes my shirt.”

Grinning, El breathed, “Your pants?”

She was getting it. “He suggested I join his guests for a game of pool,” Neal lied cheerfully in a confidential tone. He acted out lining up the cue. “I’m leaned over the table and a hand lands on my ass.”

“No!” El squeaked.

“Oh, yes.” He loved an eager audience. “I turn around, but they’re all three of them shuffling about. I lean down to line up the shot and _another_ hand gives me a good goose. Now, even a nerdy little guy like I was playing for that cover would say something, so I squeak something like, ‘Hey, there’s not enough to go around!’”

“You did not!” El squeaked. “You are so full of crap, Neal!”

Neal shrugged. It was a pretty silly line, but he was improvising here. “I panicked. I’m guessing you won’t be all that shocked to find out they did not leave me alone after that little zinger. I tried to line up my shot one more time and a hand landed on my pushing on my lower back, pushing me flat against the pool table.” She was spellbound. Neal loved it. “And then… well, I didn’t know what it was then, but someone used an ice pick to rip open the back of my pants.” El’s breath caught, but Neal kept going. “Not the end of the world. They were ugly pants.”

“Neal…” Elizabeth looked a little concerned now, but Neal shook his head at her and smiled.

“No, it’s okay. Trust me, this is a good memory. Keep in mind, the guy doing the ripping was John, my guy on the inside.” Elizabeth looked like she wanted to argue, but she shut up and let him keep weaving the story for her. “So I’m chest down on a pool table and someone’s just punched a hole in the back of my trousers with an ice pick….” Elizabeth made a breathless noise. Still into it. “I can feel the breeze getting in, these guys are laughing their heads off, and I say something like, “I need to see if my shirt is clean!”

Her laugh was perfect. Neal didn’t mind sounding a little foolish to get that laugh, especially if it was really just the character her was playing that sounded foolish. “What did they do?”

“What do you think they did?” Neal asked. “They tore my pants up. Not just taking them off, mind you. That would have been easy. Instead they started grabbing at the torn ass of my pants and _ripped_ until the fabric was just hanging by rags around the fronts of my thighs. I guess they wanted to take their time so they could all show off for one another what big, tough guys they were.” He was getting himself just a little excited with the story too, and with the way he was sitting, one leg crossed over the knee, it wasn’t going to take long before that became a bit obvious. Neal considered if he wanted El to see that. He’d have to decide soon.

In the meantime, Neal kept his tone a little conspiratorial. “One of them took it in his head to basically cane me with a pool cue,” he said and could see her expression shift into distress. Okay, that was fine. Adjust the story. “Right across both ass cheeks. Stung like anything. Good thing I had my inside guy there, because after only a couple of smacks, he kind of shoved the asshole to one side and said something extremely creative along the lines of _take this, pretty boy_. Then he began working one of the cue sticks right up my ass.”

There. El looked a little freaked out, but also turned on. Neal was 90% sure she really did understand that it was a fantasy, not something that really happened to him. But the illusion that it was real made her reactions all that much the stronger. “Neal…”

“First one wasn’t hard,” Neal assured. “These things were made of some kind of black, laquered wood and polished to a high gloss. Almost slick. John pushed it uncomfortably deep, but cue sticks aren’t very thick. Only the others took it into their heads to get in on the action too. They started adding more cue sticks. Second one was a little uncomfortable, and it was getting to be stretch by the third. And the whole time they were shoving cues up my ass, all three of them were laughing and tearing the shreds of clothes and making clever little remarks about what an impressive slut I was. 

“This whole time, I was begging them to let me up and promising to be good. After awhile, it must have annoyed someone, because they thought of something better to do with my mouth.” Neal made a slightly obscene gesture with his tongue for El’s benefit. “One guy hopped up on the pool table, shoved his pants and underwear down to his thighs and grabbed my hair. He used his grip on my hair to pull my head down over his cock and try to force me down. Which is a terrible idea, because he couldn’t get the angle right and I had a hell of a time not accidentally biting him. To be fair,” Neal mused, “he’d have deserved it. But I managed to tuck my teeth in time. It wasn’t the best blowjob I’ve ever given, because he wasn’t letting me do what I do best, but I managed to take about half of him and it was… well, really sloppy. Which he seemed to like. I think it was less about getting his dick sucked and more about making me do the sucking. When I started getting my lips around him properly, he hooked two fingers into either the side of my lips, taking away even that much control.”

Neal ran a hand slightly across his own thigh. Might as well bring El’s attention to the strain in the front of his trousers rather than try to hide it. “Only I guess the others started getting bored, because one of them went for my phone and started recording me. He started taking all these little videos of me with my mouth full of cock and my ass stretched wide. He demanded to know what my password was. He said he was going to send the videos of me being a ‘cockslut’ to my girlfriend.”

A momentary stillness as El remembered, clearly, about Neal’s actual girlfriend. No. They weren’t going to go there. Neal pushed on, like that moment never happened.

“And they kept trying to make it more exciting for the camea. Upping the ante. One person- I think it was John- started trying to work one more stick inside me. Pool sticks are not a good shape for crowding together at one end and they started slipping out, especially as the other guy was getting aggressive, smacking my ass. So my mouth was being used like a fleshlight while my ass was being smacked so hard the sticks were falling out and John started to get bored. He came right up behind my head and started pushing me down, shoving me face-down onto this cock so I couldn’t even come up for a breath.” Neal grinned while El just looked stunned. “Would have just deep-throated him until he came, but with the nerdy professor sort that I was playing, I couldn’t even really go along with it. He didn’t seem like the kind of character that would have enough experience to take a guy in past his gag reflex. So I had to choke and sputter and squirm around while he ground my nose into the other guy’s stomach.” Contemplatively, he added, “Probably looked more exciting for their videos.”

“Keep gong,” El urged, and she wasn’t even hiding the way her hand was moving under the throw now. She was definitely touching herself. 

“Then, of course,” Neal added showily, noticing the way Elizabeth was licking her lower lip and shifting, “our host came back in.” Maybe it was wrong, but Neal was picturing this fictional mob boss to look like Peter. The chin. The brow. The big, strong hands. 

Peter wouldn’t like that Neal was imagining his face onto someone this horrible, but it made the fantasy better, because then it was a fantasy even _inside his fantasy_. (Hell, it wasn’t like Neal could talk to the FBI shrink about this stuff.) “He spotted me stretched along his nice clean table with my ass stretched out and a cock in my mouth, making a mess of things, and he snapped, _Get him off the table!_ I was opening my mouth to thank him and to come up with Plan D when he added, _And put him over the piano bench instead._ ”

El laughed and Neal decided to keep his legs the way they were, to let her see he was enjoying it too. “At least they took that opportunity to find the lube. I don’t think our host wanted to get his cock chafed. He pressed the bottle tip right into my ass and squeezed it, filling me with cold lube, then tossed it aside and basically shoved all the way in. I was yelling my head off, but it wasn’t like anyone was in that house that wasn’t part of this or that wouldn’t ignore any strange sounds from downstairs.

“They took my phone back out and got it all lined up to record my face for the moment he rammed into me from behind. I tried to cover my face with my hands, and they smacked my hands away to see me scream. I mean, I was lubed and pretty stretched out, but this guy wasn’t being gentle. He grabbed me by the suspenders, lined up, and-” Neal exhaled hard, groaning, and El looked a little wild. “He felt huge. Too big to fit, but he made it fit. All the way in. I could feel his balls slapping the back of my ass as he started grinding down, riding me hard. He waited until they stopped videoing me and said _You want to be one of us, we will make you one of us. But first you show proper respect._

“So when they shoved my phone at me again, I took it and unlocked it. Let them see all the faked information. They could share their homemade porn with anyone they liked, because none of those were real numbers or emails,” Neal explained smugly. But El was evidently less interested in the con than the fucking, so he got back on that track. “When our host let go of my suspenders, I got down on the floor, on my knees, and started stroking his cock as inexpertly as I could while he promised me I’d be working my way up. I stroked him until he grabbed my wrist, yanked me a little closer, and used my hand to stroke himself the rest of the way, coming on my face. It made a mess of my glasses,” Neal added, amused at that little touch. 

 

“Want to come to bed, hon?” said a deep, calm voice. “You look like you can use a little attention from your husband.” Neal looked up, startled and guilty. When had Peter gotten back? Had he been that wrapped up in his own story and El’s reactions to not even hear the back door opening or the click of doggy nails on the kitchen tiles? Now that he was paying attention, Satcho was back too, lapping up water from his bowl in the kitchen.

El gave Peter a sweet smile that didn’t bely the hunger in her eyes. “That would be gentlemanly of you.” She stuck a hand out from under the throw so Peter could pull her to her feet, kissing her on the side of the head before turning to Neal. He looked amused.

“How long you been here?” Neal asked uncertainly.

“Not long,” Peter answered with a shrug. “About the time that they really got going on your mouth.”

Neal grinned a little sheepishly. “Ah.” Awhile then. He glanced at El who just grinned. She hadn’t given away at all that Peter was standing there, listening too. 

“Well?” From this angle, Peter was tall and authoritative and had the kind of patrician features that made Neal squirm a little. He really did _look_ like the kind of man in Neal’s little fantasy. Like someone that would put Neal on his knees and make him surrender. But his smile was all soft around the edges. “Did you want to come upstairs too?”

Neal got to his feet, trailing up the stairs after Peter and El, a little hesitant, but reminding himself that no one was making him do a damn thing. Peter and El kissed as they moved to the bed and Peter called, “Neal, door?” because Satchmo sometimes got excited when people were kissing, like it was a game Satchmo was missing out on. 

But, then, no one minded as Neal sat down on the opposite side of the bed and started taking off his shoes. While he undid his laces, Peter pushed El’s dress up and nudged her underwear casually to one side before going down on her with admirable enthusiasm. 

It was nothing like the kind of sex that had been happening in Neal’s story. Sex in Neal’s little tale had been all about making it exciting. Not the kind of thing he’d ever really want. In real life it would have been painful and violating, but talking about it had kicked up enough passion in El and Peter that they could have _this_. Peter lapping at El’s sex and rubbing El’s clit while she played with Peter’s hair and slowly worked to get her own buttons open. She was chatty in bed. A little bossy. “A little deeper, Peter. Oh, right there. Maybe just a little harder… Mmmhmm. Move your tongue up...” 

Glancing back at Neal, she smiled, eyes dark with pleasure. “You’re sure you don’t want a part of this?” she asked.

Neal shook his head, even as he stood so he could start carefully removing and hanging his suit jacket. Then he removed his trousers, and finally his shirt. Each piece went on Peter’s side of the closet, mostly just because Elizabeth’s side was more crowded, and things _had_ to go in the closet or they’d get covered in dog hair. While Neal hung his clothes, Peter made wet sounds between his wife’s thighs while El gasped and encouraged and occasionally ordered Peter around. “Hang on, Peter, let me take these off.”

The lovers paused to take off some more clothes and change positions. Peter got some KY out to rub into El’s folds and El grabbed at the pillows to help prop herself up at a better angle. Neal just settled in on the other side of the bed, stretching out on his side, head on a pillow, not really watching. Sex was a bit… distasteful in real life, but it was also nice seeing them like this, and he liked seeing El and Peter happy. 

Neal drifted off a bit in the middle of the cunnilingus, and when he opened his eyes again, El was kneeling over Peter, sucking him off with her hand corkscrewing around the base of his cock. El paused to remind Peter not to mess up her hair too badly because she’d just straightened it and then gave his cock a friendly little lick before getting back to business. Neal smiled and reached down to touch himself a little. He wasn’t all that aroused, but it felt like he should show willing. His hand on his cock felt good, but he wasn’t really attracted to his bed partners, not like that. He was sure he _could_ get it up for them. He’d done it for Kate often enough. But they had one another and weren’t fussed about Neal joining in if he wasn’t into it.

Eventually, Peter and El had both had their fill and were settling down, panting. Neal sighed sleepily, reached over, and began passing them face wipes to clean up. “You look beautiful,” he told El who was flushed bright red and whose hair really was past repair without starting all over. “You look beautiful too,” he told Peter, who laughed and shook his head like he always did when Neal said things like that, but Peter clearly loved it.

Shifting about, El asked, “You want Peter in the middle?”

“If you don’t mind?” Neal gave her a grateful little smile as they repositioned themselves and Neal scooted in a little closer so Peter could pull him in to settle against his chest. Peter was a little sweaty and putting off heat like a furnace. It would get uncomfortable soon, but Neal loved the way his body fit against Peter’s and the strong, gentle way Peter held him. The man could be comforting as hell. 

Once everyone’s knees and elbows had been arranged, Peter spoke up. “You could just ask if you’d like to be held,” he murmured.

Neal ignored that. No, he really couldn’t. What the three of them had was complicated. “You didn’t like storytime?”

“I liked storytime,” El murmured from Peter’s other side. Then, carefully, “But it’s just a story?”

Neal smiled and settled into place. There were illusions to maintain.


End file.
